


A Thousand and One Ways

by RuthlessBallard



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: #J/C, #Smut, #living that fap life.....don't....don't make that a thing, #sexual fantasies, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 11:46:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15363960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuthlessBallard/pseuds/RuthlessBallard
Summary: She was a constant in his fantasies, he thought he had imagined it all until a moment that to be far from the case. Smut





	A Thousand and One Ways

Chakotay had imagined her in a thousand and one ways. He worshipped and degraded her in his fantasies. 

When she talked of a family of her own and the wonders of romance in the quiet of her ready room,he had pictured her smirking at him as she lounged on his bed with nothing but a bridal veil on.

When he noticed the blush joining the freckles on her cheeks after bumping into her and her little friend at Fairhaven, he imagined bending her over a wagon with her bustled skirt bunched over her back. She would moan loudly as he would take her from behind. “Enjoying the show, Sullivan?” he would ask the pathetic man watching with wide eyes.

When she would talk about the need for a nice hot bath to unwind, he imagined a foot proped up on the ledge. He pictured pert breasts emerging from under the aquatic comfort as she arches her back from the well practiced work of her hand. Surprisingly, its the image her her long neck leaning back as she reaches her climax that causes him to tumble over the edge.

When he first was blessed with the holoimage of her dressed as Queen Arachnia, he imagined her straddeling him on Chaotica’s throne. She would wrap long fingers around his throat as she rides him and refuses to allow him release until he gave his complete devotion to the reigning monarch of The Spider People. 

When she mention her days in the Acadamy, he imagined her dragging him into her dorm room with giggle. He would fumble trying to undo her bra and she let out a nervous snort at the worst times. But on a cramped bed in a tiny dorm room he would discover the wonder of a first love.

When he caught her humming to an ancient earth tune with just the slightest swing of her hips when entering her quarters for dinner, he imagined her in easy to tear away clothing slowly driving him mad as she moved her body to the music. He would be in awe as long legs propel her around a pole and lost completely when the climax of the song beckons the temptress to finish her dance across his lap.

He had thought he had imagined her in every way but none would give him the courage to make his mental movies a reality.

He thought he had imagined it all until a single glitch, in a single moment, in a single Holodeck suite when he accidently witnessed a very private program of The Captains. Not a program really but a recording of one.

In order for the Holodeck to retain and reconvert data it would make short little recordings of sessions. The recordings were at random and cease to exist shortly after it is made. It is the way the Holodeck refreshed and attempted to keep up to date with it’s user’s needs.

He was standing in an empty Holodeck debating on what program to run. It was in the middle of the night in the middle of a mind numbing week of nothing. He couldn’t sleep and decided to try to tucker himself out with some entertainment in hopes to evoke some rest before his next shift. He was pondering over the menu when a soft beep pulled him from his thought process and suddenly a bed shimmered in existance.

It didn’t take long for Chakotay to realize he was looking at himself. To be exact, an image of himself prostrated atop his Captain. The couple before him were not yet really in the throes of passion but not far from. His counterpart was busy carressing ever inch of his lover and murmering soft messages into the silky strands of her hair. 

“Please….” she begged

It wasn’t the waton demand he had imagined her growling into his ear. It was meek and soft. It was a request lightly seasoned with desperation.

“Please…say it again.”

A familiar large hand cupped her cheek.

“You’re a woman” his counterpart whispered.

It was said so earnestly and with such devotion that it caused the unseen audience to lose his breath.

The counterpart’s words had pleased his lover. It was the correct password. She smiled sweetly and opened like a flower. The counterpart aligned himself into position. His lover meekly whines in anticipation.

“You’re a woman, Kathryn.”

They become one. Her eyes close and her brows knit. Sheathed within her his breath becomes labored. Her eyes are still closed when his thumb brushes against her bottom lip.

“You’re a person.”

Hips begin to move. She groans and he grunts.

“I matter” she breathes

It is then that Chakotay noticed tears trickling from her still closed eyes and taking refuge into sprawling bloodlines of auburn locks. 

Her lover slid in deeper. She mumbled a curse reverberating into a moan. Her lover picks up the pace. A small smile graced her lips and her expression was of someone basking in the joy of the moment. With the beginning promise of a climax coming into play the image of the two slowly faded out until there was nothing but a breathless man standing alone in the Holodeck.

Without thought, without a plan, without nothing but the memory of a droplet trickling down into auburn hair did he finds himself at her door.

A chime.

A welcome.

An entrance.

She’s there.

“Well this is a pleasant sur……are you alright?”

He placed his lips against hers as he had a thousand and one ways in his fatasies. 

“Chako….”

“Of course you matter! How could you not know that you matter!?” He pleaded so fervently. “You are….you have to know you matter! You matter so much! You matter so much to me!”

“Its ok. Its ok.”

He’s weeping and so was she. They kissed as he continued his mantra and she assured him. In little time, they were pressed against the bulkhead. In little time, clothing became a blockade to the message. In little time, he made love to her in a thousand and two ways.


End file.
